


In your Zone

by Ephie



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Demon Tony, Demons, Depression, Ex-Soldier Steve, M/M, Music, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Synaesthesia, alternative universe, this is my first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:31:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephie/pseuds/Ephie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is a demon that can tune into the music people are listening through their headphones. He also has synaesthesia und sees sound. He follows Steve because Steve's music intrigues him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In your Zone

Libiamo, libiamo ne'lieti calici che la belleza infiora.  
E la fuggevol ora s'inebrii a voluttà.  
Libiamo ne'dolci fremiti  
Che suscita l'amore,  
Poiché quell'ochio al core  
Omnipotente va.

“Mmh. Pavarotti. La Traviata. Nice”, Tony thought standing in a subway on his way to Tribeca.

Humans were so boring and predictable sometimes. Such hordes of naked sheep following the latest pop trend. Dull repetitions of the same words, the same chords and the same melodies. It was refreshing to listen to a classic every once in a while.

With a wink of his finger he tuned into the next human's musical adventure. Yep, that's what Tony thought. Dull creature. All those flashy colors snaking through the mass of people in the wagon made Tony's brain hurt. What happened to the calm see of dark hues swimming at his feet or the vibrant velvet strings circling his torso? 

Tony hated the 21st century. He always loved his gift to see music, but the last two decades gave him one migraine after another. 

At the end of his wagon a man was sitting in the corner seat, head slumped down, almost touching his chest. His hands were folded between his partly spread knees. Electric blue headphones on top of his sandy hair. Tony tuned into his music. A melancholic melody. Beautiful. Sad. Dark. Depressing. But, so very alluring. Perfect in every way. Not only the music.

He found today's challenge. 

Slowly Tony walked closer to sandy, muscly and beautiful, waiting for the man to exit the subway. Three more stops and Mr. sad tunes got off the train. Tony followed. 

The song changed, the mood of it didn't. A small coffee shop at a corner was the mans destination. Tony slipped in behind him and took a seat at a small table in a corner. Mr. melancholy chose a corner table by the window and pulled a sketchpad out of his messenger back. 

Tony was intrigued. Where his drawings as dark as his music? He wanted to know. The music was so desolate, but so utterly entrancing at the same time. Tony listened for a while with his eyes closed until it stopped.  
“Shit”, he could hear from the man's mouth. He was frantically rummaging in his bag looking for something. A charger, Tony concluded. He could help with that.

Producing a charger out of thin air, Tony got up and went over to the man in need.

“Do you need one of those?”, Tony asked, dangling the device in front of the man's face.

Eyes as electric blue as the headphones stared back at Tony.

“Uhm, yeah, thank you”, came the answer. “How did you know?” Tony smiled. “Just a guess.” “May I?” Tony asked pointing to the seat opposite the man. Blue eyes mustered him intensely. “Yeah, why not. Have a seat.” That voice, dark, rich swirls caressed Tony's legs. Such a nice strong voice. Tony wanted to take a dive in that voice and wrap it around his whole body. 

“Thank you”, he answered instead. “I'm Tony.” “Steve”, the man answered. Steve, mmh. It made a really pretty color when Steve pronounced his own name. Tony wanted Steve to say his name. His full name; Anthony. How would that look? Would it be as pretty as Steve?

“I noticed you drawing. I don't want to be too forthcoming but, can I see? I always had a soft spot for the fine arts.” Electric eyes mustering him. Contemplating, deciding if Tony was worthy or not. Worthy enough to see a glimpse of Steve's personal life. Of his emotions, his core. 

Tony could force a yes out of that pretty mouth, but nowadays he wasn't the forceful type anymore. It was way more enticing to learn about a person on his or her own accord. So he waited while Steve pondered.  
“Hell, why not.” Steve said. Tony took the sketchpad and started flicking through it. Thick dark strokes on ivory paper. Even his drawings were dark. Lot's of sketches of the same man. Some architecture. Beautiful lines, confident strokes. Mesmerizing.

“Who is the guy?” Wrong thing to say, obviously. Steve's flinching was all the evidence Tony needed to see, that 'the guy' might be very important to Steve.

“Somebody that I used to know.” Vague answer. But okay. Tony could relate. Only because he was a demon doesn't mean there haven't been deeper relationships in his life.

“I know how that is. So, what music were you listening to before your Ipod died?”

“Some Radiohead, Sneaker Pimps and stuff. Sorry, why are you asking those questions again? Is this flirting?”, Steve asked a little annoyed. Hello bluntness my good friend. And yes maybe. But Tony wanted more than that.

“I want to look into your soul Steve and make you whole again.” Tony's chocolate brown eyes flashed crimson red for a nanosecond. 

Steve recoiled. “What just happened to your eyes?”

“Not important, Steve. The question is what happened to you that made you loose your momentum in life?”

“Whoa, okay, this is freaky and I feel a little uncomfortable. Sooo, I will leave now. Have a nice life Tony, or whatever.” 

You see, Tony gets that a lot. Humans stopped believing at one point. Even if they tell you they are believers, but confronted with reality they just freak. 

“Steve! Stop! Sit down!” Tony didn't want to do this, but Steve wouldn't comply on his own. Tony had to whazoosa him a bit with his demon-mojo for his plan to work.

Steve sat down, not really knowing why. “How did you do that? Why did I do that?”

“I'm very persuasive if I want to be Steve. Anyhow, you will take me home to your apartment and we will have a little heart to heart.” Tony got up and started to put his coat back on. Steve stared at him. “Come on Steve. Get up.” 

Putting his things away Steve got up and followed Tony outside. “Why are you doing this to me? Why me?”

“Steve, I want to help you. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. You are lost and I might be able to put you on the right path again. Because right now you're not living. You're merely existing. It would be a waste leaving you like that.”

Tony hailed a cab. Steve couldn't do anything but get in with Tony. He was not in control of his body. Tony was, and it freaked him the fuck out. He was scared. But, would it be so bad if Tony killed him in a dark ally? Didn't he give up on life a long time ago anyway? An eery tranquility overtook him. 

Tony rolled his eyes. He could see and feel Steve's mood change. “See Steve? This is what I'm talking about. You just don't care anymore. Give the driver your address.” And Steve did. What other choice did he have? He couldn't not do it. Tony somehow made sure of it.

Steve's apartment was minimalistic. To put it kindly. It consisted of a mattress and one chair. His clothes were piled neatly in one corner. This wasn't living, this was waiting. Waiting for life to be over. But Tony had other plans. Here and now he would make Steve want to live again. 

“Sit down Steve.” Steve took a seat on his mattress his empty eyes looking up at Tony who knelt down in front of Steve. Tony put his hands on both sides of Steve's face and closed his eyes.

Glimpses of Steve's life flashed before his eyes. Two soldiers. One of them Steve the other a … lover. The man from the sketches. An explosion in some desert. Steve screaming. The other man, Bucky was his name, dying in Steve's arms. A feeling of overwhelming despair gripped Tony's heart. He gasped. 

Tony was undergoing all of Steve's feelings from the last 2 years. He understood now why Steve gave up. So much sadness and pain. Impossible for one human to bear. Normally humans forget. The brain soothes the heart by locking the worst away. Steve was different. He lived through all those memories every day anew. 

Tony's eyes were wide open and tears were running down his face. Steve's eyes were wet as well.

“I miss him so much.” A single tear left Steve's eye.

“I know.” Tony answered truthfully. “You poor soul. I'm sorry that you have to live with that every day. I really am. I hope you know that his death wasn't your fault. You did what was humanly possible Steve.” 

Steve looked at Tony and nodded briefly. “I know. Still, It won't bring him back to me.”

“No, it won't. But I can help you forgetting the pain. Not Bucky, just all those misguided painful emotions. You deserve to remember him without breaking down. He wouldn't want you to live through that every day. Let me take away the pain Steve.”

“Please.” Tears were now running freely down Steve's cheeks.

Tony put two fingers against Steve's right temple and closed his eyes. He let his powers flow. A small resistance disturbed the power's momentum. Interesting, Tony thought. It wasn't Steve's brain who decided to fuck with his memories. Some other demon did that to Steve. With a little twitch of his fingers he crushed the that barrier. Tony hated those who brought pain. He called them Lucifer's bitches. They were the scum of the scum. Drawing from humanities pain. 

Steve gasped; eyes wide. “What just happened?”

“I fixed it Steve. You will still feel a little pain when remembering Bucky's death, but you won't remember any little detail anymore and above all you will stop linking pain to Bucky's memory. Don't waste your life. You're predestined to do great things.”

“I have to go now. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Tony got up. “Oh, and please, I like your taste in music. Don't ever change it.” Tony pulled a business card out of his coat pocket and gave it to Steve. He usually didn't give away his information freely, but there was something about Steve that made him do it.

“Whenever you need someone to talk or just hang, I'm told I'm a lot of fun. So, call me.” Tony smiled and left Steve's apartment.  
“Thank you”, Steve whispered, but Tony had heard. 

Whistling Tony walked down the street to the next subway station. Music resonated loudly from a passing car. Dark rich strings caressed his ankles. This was a good day Tony decided and dove into the mass of people looking for his next project.

**Author's Note:**

> I might be persuaded to continue this series. Let me know what you think.


End file.
